Who killed Hyacinth Bucket?
by D.W. Vean
Summary: The characters from "Keeping Up Appearances" join forces with the characters of several major mystery TV shows: including people from Monk, Inspector Morse, and Poirot. The scene is set- a blizzard is roaring outside, the electricity is off inside, and th
1. Chapter 1

The detectives began their investigation by shutting Lewis and Hastings in a cupboard and locking the door. "Let's face it," said Morse to Poirot, "that's basically what we do with them during normal investigations".

"Alas yes mon ami" answered Poirot, who began brushing imaginary specks of dust from his suit.

"Ah," said Frost. "A bloody little frog I see."

"I am not a bloody little frog!" said the diminutive detective, "I'm a bloody little Belgian!", and with that, Poirot attacked Frost and the two fell to the ground and rolled around. Meanwhile, at the mention of blood, Monk had fainted and joined the other two detectives on the floor.

"Oh dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Fletcher. She knelt down on the floor next to Monk and attempted to revive him. She pinched him, slapped his face and shouted into his ear but nothing seemed to get through to him.

"Hang on a sec Mrs. Fletcher," said Sharona. Sharona moved to stand over Monk and said, "Adrian, the floor looks pretty dusty to me." Monk immediately sprang up from the floor, brushing his clothes frantically. Sharona sighed, "It's all right Adrian, just go upstairs and change into one of the other suits you brought." Adrian looked at Sharona in horror. "But, but…those suits are sorted by day of the week. If I go change into tomorrow's suit, I'll have to wear my Tuesday suit on Wednesday." Monk shuddered at the very thought of it.

Meanwhile…Poiroit and Frost had fought and rolled their way into the room where the murder suspects were assembled. Poirot stood up and brushed dust off his jacket. Upon seeing that Frost was not making any attempt to rise from the floor, and in fact that he was not moving at all, nor breathing, Richard tentatively inquired, "Excuse me Mr. Poirot, but your fellow detective appears to be dead." Poirot looked at him, and then cast his gaze out to all those assembled. "There is only one thing you need to know my friends," said Poirot. "I am from Belgium. Anyone wishing to challenge zis statement may join our friend Mr. Frost." "Now," began Poiroit, "you all know why you are here?" "Yeah," responded Onslow, "you want to know which one of us killed our Hyacinth. Well I'll tell you right now, we ALL had a hand in it." Those assembled nodded in agreement. "Yes," said Poiroit, "zis I know. But, we are not here to find out who participated in the murder of Hyacinth Bucket, but rather…who attempted to prevent it."

Those assembled cast wary glances at one another and edged away from each other. "Yes," said Poirot, "One of us here is not zee normal average Briton with murder in his blood and a body in the backyard..no mes amis. One of us here is a person so cold blooded and calm that zey can tolerate and even defend the person most intolerable, Madame Bucket."

Elizabeth couldn't help it, she let out a small shriek and Emmit went over to comfort her.

"Um, Mr.Poirot," ventured Richard, "the name is actually pronounced Bucket, as in the thing you carry water in."

"Yes I know zis," answered Poirot, "But, being from Belgium, zat is a word most difficult for me to pronounce."

"Ah, well alright then Mr. Poirot. It's just that she did used to annoy me so much, insisting that it be pronounced like a bunch of flowers."

Just then Mrs. Fletcher entered the room and the vicar's wife dropped to the floor, dead as a doornail.

Those assembled stared at Mrs. Fletcher with disapproving looks on their faces.

"I am sorry," apologized Mrs. Fletcher, "I just seem to have that effect on people."

The vicar sprang up from his seat and went to Mrs. Fletcher, grabbing her hands in his and shaking them. "My dear woman don't apologize please! Now that my wife is out of the picture I can finally be with the love of my life, Rose! He ran over to where Rose was sitting and grabbed her, pulling her out of her chair and onto the floor in front of everyone and onto a very nice Indian rug where they engaged in passionate lovemaking.

"Uh," ventured Richard, "d'you think we should move to another room?"

Poirot agreed and all those who were still alive and not engaged in passionate lovemaking proceeded into the drawing room across the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

----Death toll- 3. The Vicar's wife, Frost, Hyacinth Bucket

---2 persons engaged in passionate lovemaking

---2 persons locked in a closet

The drawing room was dark, lit only by a large gothic fireplace and candles arranged on occasional tables throught the room.

The group assembled once again and settled themselves on the large comfortable chairs and sofas. Daisy wedged herself next to Onslow on the sofa. "Onslow," Daisy whispered into his ear, "d'you think maybe WE could engage in some, passionate lovemaking?" Onslow grimaced and replyed, "not now Daze I've got headache." Nonetheless he reached around the back of the sofa and grabbed a most fortunately placed can of lager. He popped the top and a spray of lager foam hit Poirot directly in the face, soaking his mustache into a droopy mess. The amazingly ferocious little Belgian attacked Onslow, swearing at him in Flemish.

The others in the room politely looked away while the little Belgian throttled Onslow.

Elizabeth twiddled her thumbs nervously until she came up with a conversation starter. "Isn't that Flemish he's speaking?" She elbowed Emmit for a reply.

"Oh yes!, yes I say how interesting," replied Emmit. The conversation once again had an awkward pause. Richard bravely saved the conversation, saying "Wasn't the vicar's wife Welsh?"

Elizabeth beamed, grateful of the distraction from the increasingly violent fistfight in the corner of the room. "Yes! She was, she spoke it as well you know."

"Oh did she?", replied Richard. "How terribly interesting."

Finally the fight subsided and Poirot emerged victorious. And, to the others surprise, he had emerged with a perfectly restored moustache. Daisy however was not impressed with Poirot's lightning fast facial hair repair, seeing as how Onslow was now dead, and anyway she had a feeling that the furry appendage was fake. She though of attacking the snooty little detective herself, for killing her night in shirtless armor, but she had a far more cunning plan. "Mrs. Fletcher," she called. "Could you come over here for a moment?"

"Of course," replied Mrs. Fletcher, "You probably want to know who killed your husband, I think I've figured it out you know."

"Oh for heaven's sake," sighed Emmit, "We ALL know who killed him, just do as Daisy asks!" So Mrs. Fletcher approached Daisy and Poirot. She hadn't yet come within two feet of Poirot when he keeled over onto the floor.

"Okay STOP!" yelled Daisy, who herself was edging herself over to the other side of the room, staying as far away from Mrs. Fletcher as possible.

She settled herself behind Violet, who whispered to Daisy out of the corner of her mouth, "You know this Yank Fletcher is far too dangerous to have around, and I think I know how to take care of her."

Violet rummaged around in her handbag and quickly drew out a small makeup mirror. She held it up and aimed it at Mrs. Fletcher, who, upon seeing her reflection, dropped dead on the spot.

The remaining people, Richard, Daisy, Violet, Emmit and Liz cheered and decided to adjourn to their rooms for the night. They were about to ascend the front stairs together when Violet said "Are you all getting the feeling that now would be a good point in the story for us to split up?"

"Ah yes," exclaimed Emmit, "We'll go this way, you go that way, eh wot? The good old British mystery plot device."

So, Emmit and Richard decided to go find the back stairs and head up that way, while Violet, Liz, and Daisy headed up the front stairs.

---Death toll 6. The Vicar's wife, Frost, Hyacinth Bucket, Onslow, Mrs. Fletcher, and Poirot.

---2 persons engaged in passionate lovemaking

---2 persons locked in a closet


	3. chapter 3 with summary

Meanwhile in the front hall…

D.I. Barnaby and Seargent Troy walked in the front door. "Troy," asked Barnaby, "I don't suppose you recall how many people have just recently been murdered here do you?"

"Yes, sir" said Troy, as he flipped through a small notebook, "that would be 6 people excepting the late Mrs. Bucket."

"It's Bouquet!" came a chorus of voices from about halfway up the front stairs. There was a pause. "Oh goodness did I really just say that?"

"Allright then Troy, so nearly everyone but the foul Bucket protecting personage is dead. If we just wait a little while longer, we'll have our man. Or woman."

"Right sir," Replied Troy, replacing his notebook in his jacket pocket.

At that moment a terrifying scream, a scream perfectly in the key of A, came from the back stairs.

Troy and Barnaby ran towards the back of the house and up the stairs. Lying at the top of the stairs was the body of Emmit, looking as though he'd just seen a ghost.

"Put another tick mark in your little book will you Troy?" said D.I. Barnaby.

Death toll-- 7 The Vicar's wife, Frost, Hyacinth Bucket, Onslow, Mrs. Fletcher, Poirot, and Emmit.

---2 persons engaged in passionate lovemaking (yes even after 2 years they're still going strong! )

---2 persons locked in a closet

---2 additional detectives


End file.
